Lin coughed, crimson dribbled from his lips as his vision faded at the edges. Every inhale burned his chest—ragged and shallow, like he tried to breathe through a straw packed with gravel. His ribs wailed in protest, and his legs trembled uselessly beneath him. The earth swallowed him alive while his hooves slid helplessly. He felt his strength fade fast, and his body betrayed him with every second.
"Is this seriously how it ends?" Lin wondered bitterly. "Beaten to death by a bunch of goats?" He tried to lift himself up again, but his muscles ignored him. He sagged back into the dirt. The world tilted, and his head buzzed like a nest of angry hornets. The others kept shoving him down, jeering as they struck. The sour taste in his mouth grew stronger as he fought for every breath.
Agony clouded his senses, and his consciousness started to slip away. As everything began to fade, he saw something new—an adult goat charging toward the brawl, its powerful hooves tearing up the turf.
Before the yearlings could react, the adult goat crashed into them with overwhelming force, sending them flying like leaves blown by the wind. Lin's bully spun away from a powerful headbutt, landing with a sickening snap that echoed across the meadow, silencing the other goats' jeers.
Lin stayed motionless, body refusing to respond. Blood trickled from his jaw as he hacked weakly, ribs throbbing with every movement. Breathing felt like his chest was filled with coals, but his brain raced despite the battering. Please tell me this is the legendary 'Plot Armor Goat' or something…
The leader goat stumbled back, shock and fury duking it out across its face. "What do you think you are doing? This doesn't have anything to do with you. You best not interfere, or you'll regret it," it said, voice low and dripping with threat.
The adult goat huffed, breath swirling in the chilly air like steam. "And who made you boss?" it asked, marching forward menacingly. "You think you're tough just because you outnumber one? Picking on the weak, are we? Pathetic." Its words were acid, burning every yearling in earshot.
"You're making a huge mistake by stepping in. If the old man hears about this, you'll both be exiled. Think twice," snapped the yearling leader, baring its teeth.
"Enough," shouted the adult goat, eyes blazing with anger. Its voice carried authority, and fury visibly shaped its posture. Even the bravest yearlings hesitated, their defiance fading in the face of the adults' commanding presence and glare.
A smaller goat tried to speak but ducked and fell silent as the adult's eyes swung its way. The mob that had been so rowdy seconds ago now looked like sheep in a wolf pen.
Lin watched in awe, every part of him aching, but jaw-droppingly impressed. Despite the agony and haze, something inside him flickered—gratitude and a stubborn determination that, somehow, hadn't died yet.
The adult goat's fierce stare softened as it finally looked Lin's way, voice gentle but firm. "Stay down," it said. "You've suffered enough."
Lin desperately wanted to reply—anything, even a thank you bleat—but his body was toast. Everything hurt. It was all he could do to stay vaguely conscious. At that moment, his system chimed in.
[Warning: The user has lost too much blood. The system determines that the user is in critical condition and requires recovery. The recovery period will begin now. The user will lose consciousness in three, two, one.]
Before Lin could even finish reading, the numbers started echoing in his ear, like the world's most annoying sleep app. A freezing wave of exhaustion crashed over him, heavier than a Monday commute. His sight narrowed to a single blinking notification.
He tried, stupidly, to fight it, desperate to stay awake, but his body was not taking any applications for overtime. The pain faded, replaced by numb emptiness; voices blurred to static somewhere far away. The last thing he saw was the system notification, pulsing gently in the dark.
[Mission completed. Calculating gains...]
Darkness. A weightless, endless void where time seemed to stretch and fold upon itself. Lin floated through that nothingness, neither fully awake nor truly unconscious. In the distance, he hears the faint, unmistakable chime of the system—a sound slicing through the abyss like a lighthouse cutting through midnight fog.
[Critical injuries detected.Initiating emergency recovery protocol, Newbie.]
[The host will be immobilized for 12 hours. Vital functions stabilized. Blood loss halted. Minor tissue regeneration is now in progress.]
So this is what it feels like to be dangling between life and death, Lin thought, his awareness drifting in and out. Twelve hours... Was I really teetering that close to the edge? The system's words felt at once strangely comforting and utterly terrifying—a not-so-gentle reminder of just how fragile he was in this form.
[Recovery protocol Newbie complete. Status: Stable. The user will regain consciousness shortly.]
The sentence drifted through his mind, pulling him upward, toward the surface of awareness. He noticed his body again: first the dull ache in his chest, then the heaviness in his legs, then the cool, wet touch of the ground beneath him. With a sudden gasp, Lin's eyes flew open.
He lay crumpled on his side in dew-damp grass, the world bathed in early morning's gentle gold. For a moment, he barely moved, half-afraid any twitch would send pain rushing back from where it had just receded. Am I really back? Am I not dead? But as seconds passed, he realized the worst agony had faded, replaced now with a sore dullness.
Lin sucked in a deep breath. His ribs complained, but the stabbing agony from before was gone. He let the air out slowly, watching it swirl as mist in the chill dawn.
He blinked a few times, adjusting to the new brightness. The meadow was peaceful, save for distant birds and the barely-there flutter of grass in the breeze. The wild chaos of yesterday felt like a fever dream.
He gently flexed his limbs; they were fine, but he soon felt the pain of the tender bruises hidden beneath his fur. Blood was no longer pooling in his mouth, but he could still taste the metallic tang. Battered, yes, but alive. Lin shut his eyes for a moment, soaking up the sunlight warming his face. Look at me, getting all sentimental just for surviving a goat rumble. My old teacher would laugh her head off.
It was then that he noticed the shadow standing nearby. The adult goat-the one who had saved him-stood silent and watchful, its powerful frame outlined by the morning light. For now, though, Lin allowed himself a moment of quiet relief.
The adult goat stood a short distance away, its presence commanding yet calm. Its coat, streaked with silver and marked by old scars, glimmered in the morning light. Lin watched as the goat's chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths-a living wall between him and the dangers lurking in the shadows of memory.
Ahh, my plot armor. If you weren't here, I would have died already.
Lin tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He swallowed hard and managed a hoarse, "Thank you... for saving me."
The adult goat's ears flicked, and it turned to face him fully. Its golden eyes seemed to pierce right through Lin, not unkind but searching, as if weighing the worth of the battered soul before it.
"You saved yourself as much as I did," the adult replied, its voice deep and resonant. "Most would have given up. You didn't. You endured, even when your body failed you. That's strength – not the kind that comes from muscle, but from spirit."
Lin's gaze flickered to the scars on the goat's legs and shoulders. He wondered what battles this creature had fought, what pain it had endured to earn such marks. "Why did you help me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
A shadow crossed the adult goat's face. "Because I know what it means to be alone. To be hunted for something you can't control. I've seen too many fall because no one stood up for them. I won't let that happen again – not if I can help it."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant calls of birds and the gentle sigh of the wind. Lin felt something shift inside him-a fragile bond forming, born from shared pain and hard-won wisdom.
The adult goat continued, "This herd… it fears what it doesn't understand. And right now, that means you. They call you an outsider, but outsiders are just words. What matters is how you carry yourself. If you want to survive here, you'll need more than stubbornness. You'll need allies. You'll need to earn their respect."
"What is your name, sir?" asked Lin. This one - he should get acquainted.